


Shave And A Haircut

by Lokisgame



Series: A Buzzing Sound [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Light Angst, Post-Movie: The X-Files: I Want To Believe (2008)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 21:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15981173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: "You could use a little trim as well," she smiled, clean hand brushing the hair away for him with the most motherly of gestures.





	Shave And A Haircut

Three weeks of phone calls made him move his ass and get in the car, leaving the front gate behind.  
Driving through early autumn Virginia was always his favorite pastime. It was also what he loved most about the house, the colors, the trees, foggy dawns while sharing a blanket and a cup o' joe on the porch; the little things. He missed those days, he missed her. Who knew, that Scully turned out to be the restless one in the end. Accept, learn, adapt. He was still working on that third part.  
He drove through the streets of Washington D.C., watching the city change, grow and shift in it's frame. Coffee shops, chain stores, cars and clothes, people constantly looking down into their phones, their ears plugged, watching the world through a glass window. So sad, such a waste. He wanted to stop and shake every 20-something he passed and shout, 'look around! life is passing you by.' But he was an old man, analog spine in an age of zeros and ones. He'd rather admire the trees than his lock screen, as if Mother Nature dressed up just for him. She used to dress up for him too, cable knit sweaters and warm stockings, but somehow still wanting his arms to keep her warm on the couch. God, how he missed her.  
In the end, that was the reason she gave him. You love me most when you're about to lose me. She was right, and she was so wrong. 

Driving down a familiar street, one he followed in haste and fear, and in pain and joy, and all the states in between. The scenery outside changed, houses grew larger, trees and yards replaced glass and marble.  
Maggie became almost a second mother, always somewhere in the background, even after Scully moved out, calling on Sundays, visiting him from time to time. She watched them go through everything life threw at them, and still found some love in her heart for him in the end. When he blamed himself, she was there to call him family. When Scully pointed her gun at him, she stepped between them, probably knowing them better than they did each other that day. She let them go their own way, her love and honesty unwavering. 

Mulder parked in the driveway and walked through the front lawn, kicking up the carpet of green, red and gold. Someone trimmed the grass recently, but autumn was here, there was no winning against falling leaves.  
"Fox," she came out to meet him, arms reaching, warm smile as greeting, "you're just in time for lunch."  
"Hello Maggie," he hugged her back, ready for the ritual checkup.  
"My, oh my, you look," she struggled for a positive word, making him smile with her effort.  
"Like a lumberjack?" He supplied, smiling, scratching his beard, a self-conscious tic. He let it grow back, though kept it trimmed.  
"A hermit." She laughed, picking an maple leaf that had to fall from the tree as he passed it.  
"You are not entirely wrong." He grinned, gathering her under his arm and leading her back inside, the scent of home made soup and toast making his stomach growl. 

Mulder finished seconds, trying his best not to slurp. Scully's mom knew how to cook. She sat on the other side of the table, chin resting on the heel of her palm, watching him, silent delight on her face.  
"What?" He asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.  
"Nothing," she smiled, not looking away, "it's feels good to see someone eat so heartily."  
"Someone's not eating?" They both knew, who he meant.  
"No, it's not that." She rushed to explain, "Dana always ate like a little bird."  
"Yeah, she does that," he sat back, smiling and content, "unless it's pizza."  
Full stomach and present tense was making it easier to talk about her. He was drugged with home cooking and he didn't care in the slightest. If he laid his head on a pillow right now, he would sleep for hours, not that Maggie would mind.  
"Yes, pizza was always her favorite." She got up and gathered the plates, careful not to push him over the edge of comfort. The effort only made his heart grow softer. Maggie's love was no package offer.  
"Put me to work," Mulder said as she put the plates in the dishwasher. "Is there anything I can help with?"  
"Fox, you don't have to do anything," there was a smile in her voice, this wasn't their first dance to this music. "I'm just happy to have you here."  
"But I want to, since I'm here and eating your food." She sighed and he didn't have to see her face, to know she was rolling her eyes.  
"You can rake the lawn if you want," she conceded, "but it's not what I asked you here for."  
"I know," he laughed, realizing it was his first time in a while. "Do you want me to take the hammock down as well?"  
"No, leave it, afternoons are still warm enough."  
"Okay."  
Mulder pushed up the sleeves of his sweater and set out to commune with spirits of the fall. 

In the end he did the front lawn, the back yard and cleaned the grill, he forgot about when he was there the last time around. Compared to the wilderness around their house, this was like a walk in the park. It took less than an hour, before he was tying off the yard waste bags, pushing back damp hair that kept sticking to his neck and falling into his eyes, steadily becoming an annoyance.  
Maggie came looking for him with a glass of iced tea and noticed this tic.  
"You could use a little trim as well," she smiled, clean hand brushing the hair away for him with the most motherly of gestures.  
She knew why he didn't simply go to the barber, she knew his story, Scully's story, their triggers and traumas, kept tight under wraps. _'The sounds are the worst,'_ he told her once, _'even if you try to stay calm, surrendering is the hard part.'_ Flight hardwired to the trigger for life. He trusted Scully to do this for years now, but she wasn't there and he'd feel like a beggar to ask.  
"Let me do it," Maggie said, palm on his arm, rubbing gently to sooth and calm. Mulder nodded. The best thing about this new family he found, was that some things didn't require words. 

He washed his hair with some crisp and herbal smelling shampoo he found in the shower. Wiping away the steam of the mirror and leaning on the sink, Mulder took stock of himself. He saw the years that passed, the worry lines, the smile lines, graying temples and scars, marks of a life that's been lived. But for how many years to come? He banished the thought as soon as it crossed his mind.

He pulled in the chair Maggie left waiting by the bathroom door and soon she was there, comb and a pair of scissors in hand.  
"Let me look at you." She said, standing behind him, smiling.  
"Just a little of the sides," he said shyly.  
"It's been a while since I did this." Maggie admitted, combing his hair from side to side, the fine plastic teeth scraping over his neck and scalp, purposeful but not violent.  
"I used to do this with Bill and Charlie, but fashion was a little different then."  
That got her a genuine laugh from him. "I think I would have to grow them out a bit more, to match the groove of the 70's."  
"Oh you'd be surprised, Bill was a military man." She gathered a strand of hair between 2 fingers and began cutting away, quarter of an inch at a time. "The boys wore their hair really short."  
"I can imagine that."  
"All I needed was a clipper and a promise of ice cream to keep them calm." Snip, snip, snip, comb. "It was the girls who made me learn to work with scissors, trimming bangs and ponytails."  
"Did Scully always wear her hair short?" He asked, always curious about the past.  
"Not as short as when she started working with you, but not as long as she does now, either. She was always very practical, shorter hair were easier to dry and kept in line."  
"I like her wavy hair."  
"She wished her hair were long and curly, like Melissa's." She made a focused pause, combing a wayward strand into obedience, before the scissors began snapping again. "But it's always like that with girls."  
"Like what?"  
A voice made both of them jump in surprise and an unexpectedly long strand of hair, landed on the towel, covering Mulder's shoulders. Maggie gasped and blushed scarlet, as Scully appeared in the doorway behind them.  
"Oh God, I'm so sorry." She began, frantic hands trying to asses the damage, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"  
"No, I'm fine," Mulder said, reaching for her shaking hand and smiled, but kept his eyes on Scully. "It's okay, Maggie, it's just hair."  
"I can still save this," she kept fidgeting, mortified to no ends, "just give me a minute."  
"Maggie, Maggie," he squeezed her hand, placing a gentle kiss over it, "it's okay, really."  
"Mom, it's my fault, I shouldn't sneak up on you like that." Scully came into the bathroom and took the scissors out of her hand. "Let me finish this while you go make some coffee, I brought pie."  
"I..." Maggie wanted to say something else, but stopped herself, planting a kiss on top of Mulder's head. "I'm sorry," she said finally and left. 

Scully combed her fingers through his hair, a gesture so her, that it made his throat tighten.  
"Hi," she said, their eyes meeting through the looking glass.  
"Hi," he sighed, brain momentarily switched to perceive, not respond. Her hand slipped down to his neck and shoulder, squeezing gently, before taking over the task. Comb and scissors in a practiced hand and again, hair started falling away in silence.  
Scully did her best, but it ended up uneven anyway. She looked at him with that tiny crease on her forehead, one he saw a million times, from examining obscure evidence to tasting sauce from a spoon in his hand. Dissatisfied, while he couldn't care less. Taking her hand, he pulled her forward and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  
"Why didn't you call me," she whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek.  
"I didn't plan this." He looked back at her and their lips met for a heartbeat.  
"I'm sorry, I did what I could."  
"It'll grow back, I'm sure."  
She glanced at their reflection again. Cheek to cheek, blue and green, red and brown, pale and tan. The love still there, always, till the end of time.

**Author's Note:**

> based on a prompt by mulders-boyish-enthousiasm on tumblr


End file.
